


i know we break but we're not broken

by imdepresssedd



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imdepresssedd/pseuds/imdepresssedd
Summary: Loving Alex isn't easy, and that's why it's worth it.
Relationships: George Andrew/Alex Elmslie
Comments: 8
Kudos: 175





	i know we break but we're not broken

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when i'm in my feelings
> 
> (also the f slur is used at one point it's not alex or george saying it but just a warning oke)

Loving Alex can be so easy. When it's just the two of them, for one; when all fear of judgement is absent and nobody else can intervene. It's only ever behind closed doors, but they can kiss and touch as they please. It's never enough in all senses of the word, but George is thankful, because at least they have something. Some have nothing.

Loving Alex is easy. When it's early in the morning and the world is still in the process of waking up and everything's hushed and hazy, and morning breath is ignored as they come together. Late at night too, when all the privacy in the world is theirs, when it's dark enough for them not to be caught and the universe is oblivious to their love.

A lot of the time, though, loving Alex isn't easy at all. It's everything but. It's the hopelessness in having to hide and the unbearable itch to reach out and twine their fingers together in public, but knowing they can't. Like they're magnets fighting to stay apart. It's the urge to shout from the rooftops how utterly in love he is and how he doesn't care who knows it, but keeping his mouth sealed shut instead because deep down he  _ does  _ care. It's pain and hurt and tears that sting. It's a constant feeling of defeat; a heavy heart and an aching head.

Loving Alex is far from easy. George often finds himself pondering why they still bother. If it's well and truly worth it all - the sleepless nights and the screams that leave their throats aching. The harsh, bitter words and the instant regret that follows them. What's the point?  _ Is  _ there a point?

Would it be easier with someone else? With a girl - definitely. No hiding, no hassle. No looking his mother dead in the eye and lying straight to her face when he introduces his significant other to her as a  _ friend,  _ because he knows what she's like when it comes to things like this. He wouldn't have to watch Alex's face fall as soon as the word  _ friend  _ left his mouth. He wouldn't have to be such a fucking coward.

_ It's only a matter of time before they find out anyway,  _ Alex had muttered once they were driving back home in George's car.  _ Why not just tell them now and get it over with? _

Loving Alex is difficult, especially when he isn't supposed to. In fact, he did nothing he was  _ supposed  _ to do - he didn't get a 'nice job and a nice girl' like his mum had always hoped, he didn't stay home and keep the family business going like his dad had always dreamed, he didn't go to university like he'd always planned. No - he moved away to London, built an entire career based on the internet and started a relationship with his male flatmate. Possibly the farthest outcome from any of the ones expected by his family. And he wishes he didn't care.

He wishes he could be more like Alex, who came out to his parents casually over the phone, voice monotone as if he was ordering a pizza. Alex, who introduced George to his family - surely and proudly - as his  _ boyfriend,  _ not his 'friend'. Most importantly, he wishes his  _ family _ could be more like Alex's, who welcomed him with open arms and didn't even blink when the word 'boyfriend' left their son's mouth. Their smiles only seemed to widen, their eyes warm and welcoming as they keenly proclaimed him part of the family.  _ One of us, now. _

He wishes - more than anything - that things could be different. Not Alex, he wants Alex just as he is, flaws, edges, imperfections and all.

He just wishes he could be  _ sure. _ Sure that his family would still love him the same if they knew his truth. That they'd still look at him the same, think of him the same. Act the same when he's around.

He wishes  _ he  _ was different. He wishes he didn't care so much, so that he could walk into his living room, head held high and hand proudly entwined with Alex's. He wishes he could look at his parents dead on and tell them how it is. He wishes he wasn't so afraid. Because Alex deserves better - he deserves someone who can show him off, hold his hand in public with no shame, boast about him to anyone who'll listen. Alex doesn't deserve a coward.

Sometimes it keeps George up at night, the idea that Alex might just be a ticking time bomb and any moment now he'll explode and realise - that he's worth more than this, that he can leave and find someone miles better. Someone who  _ will  _ claim him for the world to see, without a single care in the world. It keeps him awake knowing just how easily Alex could slip through his fingers.

But it doesn't happen. At least, it hasn't just yet.

_ I love you, George. _ Alex tells him, time and time and time again, as if he knows what anxieties are gnawing away at his head.  _ I love you and I'm not going anywhere. It's you and me in this together. _

He knows Alex wishes things were different, too. They both do. They both wish things were easier; they both wish loving each other could be easier.

Something comes over George one day, a courage so sudden and so overwhelming that he's shaking Alex awake in the middle of the night.

_ I'm doing it. _ Alex is groaning, still attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes as George exclaims,  _ I'm gonna tell them. _

They drive to his parent's house that very next day, determination dancing wildly through George's veins.

His pleasantly surprised mum sat them down and made them both some sweet tea, and his dad walked into the warm kitchen just in time. George was just about to open his mouth, the words he'd kept safely tucked underneath his tongue for months now already beginning to formulate into full sentences when he was stopped in his tracks.

"Come on out, George, I wanna talk to you."

He turns to look at his dad, whose eyes are trained on Alex. Only for a second, though, and then he's looking at George again. Something cold settles deep in his stomach as he leaves his chair, sharing a brief glance with Alex before his shaky legs are following his dad out onto the porch. It's icy cold outside, an almost painful contrast to the hot, homely air of the kitchen. Why couldn't they just 'talk' in the living room? His question is answered as he watches his dad fish a half empty packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, sliding one in between his lips and igniting it. He takes a single drag, before turning to look at George.

"Your mate - Alex, is it?"

George swallows, clearing his throat. "Yeah? What about him?"

"Is he - ah - " he pauses, seemingly struggling, as if it's something he shouldn't say. Something  _ wrong,  _ off limits. Forbidden. George's heartbeat picks up as it dawns on him.

"What?"

His dad looks at him, unblinkingly. Then he's cracking a smile, a big one that shows off all his teeth. It isn't a  _ friendly _ smile; it looks menacing. George's face pales as soon as the dreaded word leaves his mouth.

"I'm asking if your friend is a faggot, George," he says. "Or if he just loves to dress like one."

He cries himself to sleep that night, in Alex's arms, lips pressed against his forehead as he's rocked back and forth.

When he wakes up the following morning, he's still in Alex's arms, soft, small hands running slowly up and down his back and rubbing soothing circles into his skin.

"Morning, baby." His voice is as soft as his hands. "Sleep good?"

George is too tired to speak, and too lost in Alex's deep blue-green eyes to think straight. So he simply nods.

"Woke up early and made you breakfast. You want it here or in the living room?"

_ Here. _ Alex nods, pecks George's lips and forehead and then leaving the room briefly before returning with a tray full of food and a smile on his face. As George tucks into the full English breakfast, Alex leans his head against his shoulder. They spend their morning watching whatever video happens to pop up on their recommended.

George swallows the last of the food in his mouth, placing the empty tray on his bedside table and turning to look at Alex. He finds him already gazing back, eyes glazed over like he'll start sobbing any second now. George's heart sinks.

"I love you, you know?" Alex is quiet as he says it, like it's some sort of secret. George's heart sinks even further as he remembers that  _ yeah,  _ it  _ is  _ a secret.

"I know," he whispers back. "I love you, too. More than anything." And although he's quiet about it too, there's nothing he wants more than to stand up and scream it at the sky for the whole entire world to hear.

"I don't want anyone else," Alex is crying, George can tell by the cracks in his voice. "You're the only one I want. I don't care what happens. I only want you. I  _ love you _ ."

George is nodding, tears matching Alex's own as he holds his arms out and lets him fall into them. Last night's roles are reversed as he pulls him close and lets him sob into his chest. He squeezes him tight, whispers sweet things into his ear, lets him cry it out because he needs to.

It hits him then, just how much this boy means to him. He'd risk it all, he realises, to keep him happy. He'd put his life on the line to keep him safe.

Loving Alex has never been and never will be easy. Those are the cards they've been dealt and George wouldn't change a thing. He's never letting Alex go - he'll let everything go, he'll leave it all behind if he has to, nothing else matters so long as he's still got Alex with him. Loving Alex is nowhere even close to being easy, and it's the greatest thing he's ever done.

He kisses both of his cheeks, wiping away stray tears with his thumbs. He kisses his forehead, his nose, both of his closed eyes, and finally his chapped pink lips, where he lingers the longest.  _ I love you. _ He says it against his lips, rubbing their noses together like they're children, young and in love and full of hope for the future.  _ I love you. _

Loving Alex isn't easy, and that's why it's worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> comment or whatever 🥺🥺🥺💞💞💞
> 
> i'm finally back homeeeee and i've got a couple weeks off uni which means i actually have time to write !!!!! :'))))


End file.
